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<title>your body is a symphony by ericdire (aarobron)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28633473">your body is a symphony</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aarobron/pseuds/ericdire'>ericdire (aarobron)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Football RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:42:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28633473</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aarobron/pseuds/ericdire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t even know why he’s nervous. Sure, it’s been a month since they’ve seen each other and Jordan’s missed him so much that sometimes it felt like his lungs had shut down and he couldn’t <em>breathe</em>, but Virgil is still Virgil and Jordan is still Jordan. They’re still compatible in every way, wholly in love, perfect for each other until the very end. That hasn’t changed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Virgil van Dijk/Jordan Henderson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>your body is a symphony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i actually wrote this a while ago and forgot about it 🤦🏼♀️ but here it is.</p>
<p>happy reading, feedback always appreciated xo</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jordan curls his fingers around the edge of the sink and takes a deep breath. In the mirror, his own face is staring back at him, cheeks red and eyes wide. He breathes in again, and forces every muscle in his body to relax when he blows out air.</p>
<p>He doesn’t even know why he’s nervous. Sure, it’s been a month since they’ve seen each other and Jordan’s missed him so much that sometimes it felt like his lungs had shut down and he couldn’t <em>breathe</em>, but Virgil is still Virgil and Jordan is still Jordan. They’re still compatible in every way, wholly in love, perfect for each other until the very end. That hasn’t changed.</p>
<p>And it’s not like they didn’t speak. They spoke a lot, actually – a lot more than Jordan was expecting, a lot more than anyone else was expecting. Almost all the time, Jordan would have his phone in his hand, vibrating as texts came through from Virgil. About anything and nothing – his lunch, what Gini did in training, how tired he was.</p>
<p>There were texts every night before he went to sleep, and one every morning ready for when he woke up. FaceTimes, when Virgil was on the bus on the way back from games. Phone calls when he was on the verge of falling asleep and incredibly lonely.</p>
<p>The point is, they spoke loads. Nothing changed all that much, except for the fact they couldn’t actually touch each other.</p>
<p>So that’s why Jordan doesn’t understand his nerves. </p>
<p>It’s even worse when he hears the key in the front door. The scrape of the lock as it turns, and the handle being pressed down. Virgil’s footsteps on the hardwood floor, and the door shutting behind him. <em>God</em>. He missed him so, so much.</p>
<p>Even just the atmosphere in the house is better with him here. The smell of his aftershave rises into the bathroom and Jordan’s mouth waters, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He’s still nervous, but it’s mixed with an excited energy now. He <em>wants</em>. He wants, so bad.</p>
<p>He pulls the sleeves of Virgil’s hoodie over his hands and curls his fingers around the hems. It’s his favourite one, the one that’s far too big for both of them but soft to touch and warm, and Jordan knows he left it behind on purpose. He pretended he just forgot, but Jordan knew.</p>
<p>The bottom hem of it brushes against his thighs as he takes in another deep breath. His heart is pounding but his boyfriend is downstairs, so he pushes away from the sink and juts his chin up. </p>
<p>He keeps his footsteps light on the stairs, clutching onto the rail for dear life. Rolls his bottom lip into his mouth as he rounds the staircase into the hallway, and then tells himself to stop being ridiculous. It’s only Virgil. They’ve been together long enough that Virgil knows every single part of him.</p>
<p>He stops in the doorway to the living room, and every single inch of nerves that was causing a hurricane in his stomach melts away as soon as he sees Virgil. Sitting on the couch, still in his KNVB tracksuit, legs spread as he scrolls down his phone. His bag is still next to him, and his presence takes up so much space that it has to shove Jordan’s breath out the way to make more room. </p>
<p>“Hi,” Jordan whispers, digging his nails into his palms through the layer of material. “You’re home.”</p>
<p>“I am,” Virgil confirms, looking up and dropping his phone onto the couch. His entire face lights up when he sees Jordan, gaze dragging down the length of his body like he’s looking for any changes. Jordan has never felt so loved.</p>
<p>He takes careful steps towards Virgil, a tiny smile carved into his face, widening when the younger man spreads his legs even wider. It’s an invitation – one that Jordan’s going to take – so he steps between them and lowers himself to sit on Virgil’s thigh, entire body relaxing when he feels an arm wrap around his waist.</p>
<p>He’s missed that touch so, so much. </p>
<p>“Missed you,” Jordan whispers, curving his palm around Virgil’s jaw. Virgil’s other hand rests on his knee, warm and familiar in size and shape, and that’s all it takes before Jordan is leaning in and kissing him.</p>
<p>It feels like the first time all over again. Of course, it’s nowhere near the first time – they’ve been together four years now and have pretty much settled into the routine of being an old, married couple – but god, it feels like it could be. Virgil brushes his tongue against Jordan’s and sparks fly everywhere, threatening to set Jordan’s heart on fire.</p>
<p>They kiss for what feels like ages. It could be, to be honest – Jordan has no concept of time when he’s under Virgil’s hands because all he knows is that he’s happy and feels good, and that’s all he needs. Virgil’s fingers slide from his knee up the bare skin of his thigh, the tips of them edging under the hem of his boxers.</p>
<p>“I missed you too,” Virgil whispers, palm brushing through the dusky hairs on Jordan’s thigh repetitively. It makes him shiver, pressing further into Virgil’s body, and the younger man smiles knowingly. “Still as gorgeous as when I left.”</p>
<p>“Made an effort for you,” Jordan hums, although frankly, an effort is just doing his hair, putting a nice pair of Calvin Kleins on and Virgil’s favourite hoodie, and nothing else. Less is more when it comes to Virgil. “Wanted you to feel welcomed.”</p>
<p>Virgil’s hand slides over the material of his boxers to curve around the side of his thigh, fingers splayed over the muscle. “I feel very welcomed,” Virgil whispers, catching his mouth in a quick kiss. His thumb presses against the side of Jordan’s dick, and the older man slides his arm around his shoulders, nails pressing into the meat of it through his jacket. “It was weird seeing the England squad without you, but if international retirement means I get to come home to you wearing next to nothing…”</p>
<p>“Might be even less next time,” Jordan suggests casually, sliding his hand from Virgil’s cheek down to his chest. He lets out a whimpery little gasp when Virgil slides his thumb over the wet patch on his boxers. “If you’re good enough.” </p>
<p>“Think we ought to get this off you,” Virgil says, tugging on the hem of Jordan’s hoodie. His cheeks are stained red and his voice is rough, so Jordan knows where this is heading. “Don’t want to be making a mess now, do we?” </p>
<p>“No,” Jordan agrees, smirking as Virgil’s hands slide under the material and onto his bare skin. The tips of his fingers fit into the dimples at the base of his back perfectly, and then slide further up, bunching the material under his armpits. “No, we don’t.”</p>
<p>Virgil manoeuvres it over Jordan’s head carefully, but discards it to the side. His gaze is hungry, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, and then he flattens his palm on the curve of Jordan’s back to bring him in even closer. Presses a kiss to the thin skin that stretches over his ribs, and then closes his mouth around his nipple.</p>
<p>Jordan gasps, fingers squeezing tight where they’re resting on Virgil’s shoulder. Sure, he got off to the sound of Virgil’s voice more than a few times over the last month, but it’s not felt anything even close to this. This is real and Virgil’s mouth is hot and wet, sending sparks of pleasure straight to his dick.</p>
<p>“Missed hearing you make those noises,” Virgil groans, lips brushing against Jordan’s chest when he speaks. He settles both hands on Jordan’s hips and then flips him over, laying him flat along the length of the couch and settling between his thighs. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”</p>
<p>He gets a hand inside Jordan’s boxers and wraps his fingers around his dick, pulling it free and pumping his fist leisurely. It’s even better than Jordan remembers and he gasps, twisting back against the cushions. </p>
<p>“Fuck me,” he demands, reaching up to grip the back of Virgil’s neck. The younger man hisses out when his nails dig in.</p>
<p>“I’d like to think it’ll be a little nicer than that,” Virgil mutters, letting go of Jordan’s dick. He only goes as far as to hook the tips of his fingers in the waistband of his boxers, though. “But if you insist, babe.”</p>
<p>He takes his time dragging them down Jordan’s thighs because he knows how restless it makes him feel, fingers brushing over every inch of skin on his legs. It’s teasing but it works, and by the end, Jordan is swearing, tossing his head back.</p>
<p>“So impatient,” Virgil hums, but he settles his entire body along the length of Jordan’s, resting all his weight on him. “What if I want to take my time?”</p>
<p>“Then I’ll just get myself off,” Jordan snaps.</p>
<p>“There’s no fun in that,” Virgil whispers, hand sliding over the crease of Jordan’s thigh where the skin is thin and sensitive. His fingers go even further, squeezing the muscle of his arse and then finally pressing against his hole.</p>
<p>Jordan waits. Virgil takes in a deep breath, just like he knew he would.</p>
<p>“You’re already wet,” Virgil whispers, sliding his index finger in up to the knuckle. His fingers feel so much better than Jordan’s did. It’s never the same.</p>
<p>“Got tired of waiting for you,” Jordan hums, grinning when Virgil slides another finger in. He melts when the younger man hooks the tips and rubs them against his prostate, gasping as he bears back down. He wants everything, and he only wants it from Virgil.</p>
<p>“God, the thought of you,” Virgil murmurs lowly, biting down on Jordan’s neck. “On your knees in the centre of our bed, arm twisted behind yourself. Three fingers deep, letting out breathy little moans, bearing down on your own hand. What were you thinking about? Me? Of course you were. Thinking about me fucking you, making you feel good, making you come. Did you come, J? Did you come while you were thinking about me?”</p>
<p>“No,” Jordan whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He’s so turned on it hurts. “No, I didn’t let myself. Wanted you to make me come. Wanted to come because you made me.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Virgil says. He’s grinning when Jordan opens his eyes. “That’s what I like to hear.”</p>
<p>He fingers Jordan even though he doesn’t really need it, but not for as long as he normally does and he doesn’t bother stretching him.</p>
<p>Virgil pulls his fingers out and shoves his trackies down his thighs, pulling his cock out and rubbing his palm over the head. He jacks his fist a few times, just to get it wet, and then presses it against Jordan's hole. </p>
<p>"You ready?" He asks, pressing a kiss to Jordan's jaw.</p>
<p>"Yes," Jordan says, clutching the back of Virgil's neck.</p>
<p>Virgil pushes in slowly, pressing kiss after kiss to Jordan's cheek to try and distract him from the burn. It doesn't work, but it's okay because Jordan likes it. He likes to feel it, feel it for days after, likes the memory to remain. He's just sentimental like that.</p>
<p>The head of Virgil’s cock is pressing against his prostate almost unbearably, but he doesn’t move. He stays where he is, material of his tracksuit making Jordan sweat, pressing kisses to his mouth.</p>
<p>“What would you do if I just stayed here?” Virgil asks, pulling back just enough so that Jordan can see his face. His eyes are wide and his mouth is swollen red, but his entire focus is on Jordan. “Settled between your legs, still inside you? If I didn’t move, didn’t fuck you? How would you feel? Would you let me?” </p>
<p>Jordan thinks about it, but he only needs a second.</p>
<p>“Yes,” he whispers, and smiles when Virgil does.</p>
<p>“Maybe next time,” Virgil says, but his eyes go a shade darker. Jordan knows that the only reason he’s not doing it now is because he’s too far past the point of no return. </p>
<p>Instead, he pulls his hips back, grinding back in slowly. Jordan breathes out heavily. His entire body is on fire, and he doesn’t know how he managed to go a whole month without this. </p>
<p>“I love you,” Virgil whispers. He sets a steady pace, one hand on Jordan’s face and cock brushing against his prostate on every thrust. “Love you so much. Hate going away without you, but I love coming home to you.”</p>
<p>“Fuck, I love you too,” Jordan sighs, twisting restlessly. He surges up for a kiss and snakes his arms around Virgil’s neck, only falling back when the younger man fits his arms under his back and pulls him close. “I’ll always be waiting for you, you know that. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Virgil breathes, tucking his face into Jordan’s neck. He’s everywhere, his presence is everywhere – his body, his smell, his warmth. It’s all Jordan ever needs to survive. “You’re so good to me, J. So fucking special.”</p>
<p>“Idiot,” Jordan whispers, but there’s a lump in his throat that makes it hard to breathe. He twists his head to press a dry kiss to the high point of Virgil’s cheekbone, brushing his thumb over the short hairs at the base of his skull. “Love you so much.” </p>
<p>Virgil curls his fingers around Jordan’s dick, the tip of his index finger pressing intently against the underside of the head. It’s a spot that drives him crazy and he hooks his leg around Virgil’s waist, pressing his heel against the small of his back as he tosses his head back.</p>
<p>“Love hearing you,” Virgil gasps, voice low and raspy. He bites down on the bared skin of Jordan’s throat just to hear him cry out, so Jordan doesn’t hold back anymore. Every like groan and whimper and moan – he does it for Virgil. </p>
<p>“‘M so close,” Jordan says, panting a little bit. Virgil slides his free hand up Jordan’s stomach to rest on his chest, feeling the way it rises and falls with every desperate breath. “God, <em>Virg</em>––”</p>
<p>His breath stutters in his chest at the same time as Virgil twists his wrist, and that’s all it takes before he’s coming, vision fading to black. It hits him in waves, rolls through his body and sets his spine alight, and he lets out a pathetic little whimper when he feels Virgil come, too.</p>
<p>That always makes him feel so claimed.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Virgil whispers eventually, sweaty forehead resting against Jordan’s temple. It’s just about the only time he does break a sweat. “If that’s what coming home is like, I might have to go away without you more often.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you fucking dare,” Jordan mutters, sliding his hand underneath the layers of Virgil’s t-shirt and jacket to pinch his hip. Even the very thought of it is making his throat squeeze tight with panic. “I like you here where I can see you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” Virgil murmurs. The sweep of his eyelashes brushes against Jordan’s throat when he blinks. “I don’t think I could leave you again even if I wanted to.” </p>
<p>Jordan kisses his cheek and feels nothing but grateful.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>find me on tumblr @ <a href="https://georginiwijnaldum.tumblr.com/">georginiwijnaldum</a> xo</p></blockquote></div></div>
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